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Tuesday, March 31, 2015

On Tuesday, every Tuesday, a band of merry authors congregates to tease and tantalyze you with their magical wordsmithery. In two hundred words or less, we select a photo that suits our muse, and we write a wee story called a flash. I selected a photo that I missed in last week's challenge in another group I belong to that was the photo prompt. Have a quick read of mine, then sashay over to my prurient partners and have a read of their short stories. You are sure to be entertained. Who knows? You may discover an author you want to follow and read more of their work. They are listed below, like tears on a single pillow, or through any of the links posted.Enjoy ~ ☼ღஜﾚo√乇¸.☆¨¯`*.✿.*˜"*° ♥

Love's Final Song

Their song, played and sung,

Would not survive their last dance

Strummed and done.

The music died for them a little each day before she moved
into the assisted-living facility. He, still strong and healthy, even against
his own wishes and belied by his cane, could not join her there until he could
not remember her as she had long forgotten him.

Now, he met her each day on the park bench across from the
residence. On nice days, the attendant walked her over. He would get her
settled and when her husband arrived to visit and read to her, the attendant would
leave them to his private heartbreak.

On bad days, her husband would arrive, book in one hand-heart
in the other, and sit staring at the residence willing her to the window for
just one look at her lovely face. He was glad she was not lonely, that she did
not ache for him as he did her. He was happy, at least, that she did not suffer
the forlorn nights in his absence as he did for her. His heart crushed, a
little more each day, under the weight of his despair.

Monday, March 30, 2015

I didn't think I’d ever want to devote my life to someone. That is, until Brin.

I was twenty-six years old the day she entered my life, just when I’d given up hope, just when I’d given up completely on having any shred of happiness in my pathetic excuse for a life. After years of indecision, self destruction and soul-searching, she found me. Brinley challenged everything I thought I knew. She proved that goodness could still come from that hellish compound. Goodness, bravery and love. She changed everything the moment she knocked on the door of my apartment, acting as brave as a lion, even though she was shaking like a terrified mouse stuck in my trap. And now, three years later, I want her as my wife. My only wife. Till death do us part.Just us.And I’ve never wanted anything more.

Brinley’s POV

Our first summer living together in Porter’s house, he introduced me to drive-in movies. Well, he introduced me to a bunch of things I’d never experienced before: movie theaters, miniature golf, rock climbing, fast food drive-throughs. and picnics in the field near our house. But my favorite, by far, was the drive-in movie theater.

I’ll never forget that first night when Porter introduced me to the concept. I was new to living in the outside world. Movies and television, on the whole, were still new to me, but the idea of watching a movie outside was almost impossible to imagine.

When we’d first arrived, I hadn’t been sure what to expect. The drive-in was out in the middle of nowhere, next to a shallow canyon. Dust flew inside the cab of Porter’s truck as we approached the ticket taker. The booth was rusted and painted an odd pistachio green. I eyed Porter, wondering just how long the drive-in had been in business. If the dilapidated state of the booth was any indication, it had been quite a while.

“It’s vintage.” He laughed as he pulled the truck away from the booth and approached the enormous movie screen.

“Kinda like me?” I teased, looking down at my modest outfit. Until recently, I’d only worn old-fashioned clothes and my hair in a long blond braid down my back.

“Nah, you’re classic, Brin. Classic.”

They were playing a marathon of old movies, the black-and-white kind. Honestly, I didn’t really understand the difference all that much until Porter explained that Clark Gable’s expressions and slang in It Happened One Night no longer translated in the modern world. I was captivated by the actor’s handsome, debonair onscreen persona. And I was equally fascinated by the hairstyles and costumes of his leading lady—the glamour of the actress, her perfectly made-up face and flawless skin. But most of all, I was entranced by the entire experience of watching a movie on a larger-than-life screen all from the bed of Porter’s truck, salt and butter from the freshly made popcorn lingering on my fingers.

The stars were bright above us as we lay in the bed of the truck. Fleece blankets softened the unyielding metal beneath us, and pillows cradled us comfortably as we lounged. Candy of all kinds and giant convenience-store sodas kept our bellies full and satisfied as we snuggled up together, my legs draped over his, and his arm resting comfortably beneath the small of my back.

In a word, it was heavenly. And I don’t take that word lightly.

“That was romantic,” I said with a yawn on our drive back to the house.

Porter laughed. “You think so? Even though the place is falling apart?”

The wind blew through my hair and I nodded. “Yes. Thank you for taking me.” I slid closer to him and he wrapped his arm around me, placing a kiss on the top of my head.

“I love introducing you to stuff like this. Your expressions make it totally worth it.”

That comment made me self-conscious, knowing that in the grand scheme of things, I was still quite a fish out of water. I fidgeted with my hair and shifted in my seat. “I must look ridiculous.”

“Never,” he insisted, his voice serious. “It’s sweet. It’s like this look of wonder, ya know? You’re experiencing so many things for the first time, and I get to be there for it. Makes me feel really lucky.”

My nose had wrinkled in disbelief. “Really? Lucky?”

Porter had kissed my head again. “Every single day.”

It’s amazing that you can live somewhere for twenty-two years and never feel like you fit in, like you’re home. That night in his truck, I’d known I was finally home. Porter was the home I’d dreamed about for years.

Melissa Brown was born and raised in the suburbs of Chicago. She attended the University of Illinois and is the mother of two fantastic kids. She's an avid reader who enjoys making handmade gifts for her family and friends, as well as baking and painting. Melissa has an unhealthy obsession with pop culture. She speaks fluent movie quotes from the 1980s (John Hughes = genius), reads celebrity gossip magazines and never misses an episode of Scandal. She enjoys writing contemporary romance, romantic suspense and young adult novels.All of Melissa's books are currently available exclusively through Amazon.com and are part of the Kindle Unlimited Program.

BOOK SYNOPSIS

Avery Hart narrowly escapes death after being attacked in the woods of Crown River.
Ten years later...

The body of a young woman is found along the path of a park in the same town. The killer is cunning and ruthless, but even the best killers make mistakes.

Fiona Wolfe, the second woman to be attacked, survives and reveals a potential link between the current killer and the attack on Avery Hart.

Noah Cotter, an ambitious new inspector, becomes drawn to the case when his curiosity combines with his attraction to Avery.

The dangerous search for truth appears to be muddied with each shocking secret brought to light, as Avery, Fiona, and Noah realize that when someone is deceived for too long, sometimes...Lies Come True

EXCERPT

She turned back up the trail, and pushed herself to go forward. The next few strides hurt less than the first. She picked up her pace, and squinted into the last of the sunlight, as her heart pounded in her chest.

She took deep breaths as she pushed herself harder, confident that she was gaining ground, and when she reached a clearing by the lake, she looked back.

It was a man, or what looked like one, but his face was white. And red.

AUTHORS PLAYLIST

Music I listened to before I wrote Lies Come True (The Avery Hart Trilogy, Book One) and while I'm writing The Avery Hart Trilogy, Book Two:
Go- Meg Myers
Scared- The Tragically Hip
Got You Where I Want You (re-recorded)- The Flys
If I Didn't Know Better- Nashville Soundtrack
Breath of Life- Florence and the Machine
Shouldn't Have To- The Mark Inside
Bent- Matchbox 20
Make a Shadow- Meg Myers
Lie- Ryan Levine
Shadows- Lindsey Stirling
and the whole soundtrack to Gone Girl

AUTHOR BIO

Emerald O'Brien is a Canadian writer who grew up just East of Toronto, Ontario. She graduated from the program of Television Broadcasting and Communications Media at Mohawk College in Hamilton, Ontario. Emerald is the author of new adult mysteries Darkness Follows and it's sequel, Shadows Remain. Her upcoming release, Lies Come True (The Avery Hart Trilogy, Book One), is also a new adult mystery.

When she isn't reading or writing, Emerald can be found with her family and friends. Emerald loves to cook and entertain, and spends many nights watching movies with her husband and their two beagle pups.

Wednesday, March 25, 2015

With about a billion pages of porn on the
internet, writing erotica takes on a whole new challenge. It's not as if they
have more than a glancing similarity – porn is all tell, tell, tell – he
stabbed his 12 inches of throbbing manhood into her tight wet pussy…Yuck.

Good erotica is subtle, restrained,
illusive. A woman lowering the strap of her dress is far more sensual than a
pair of 42D monster breasts bouncing across the page like weapons of mass
destruction.

Good erotica doesn't tell the reader what's
erotic. It shows by scenes evolving through plot, action, descriptions without
cliché. George Orwell says if you write a line (on a level playing field,
stepping up to the plate, read my lips) that has been used before by other
writers and speakers, cross it out, be inventive, push the boundaries. It's
hard work. That's where good writing comes from, digging in the garden of originality.

My favourite author is Anaïs Nin. If you
read her work, it is as fresh as if her books slid off the printing presses
five minutes ago. For erotic writers, she is the beacon on the darkest night.
Follow her guide and you will be safe from the sirens just below the surface.

With this in mind, and a cork board covered
in scraps of quotes and advice from the Dalai Lama (spend some time alone every
day), I fell over on the ice, broke my little finger and started writing in a
moment of distraction a new novel that became Katie in Love.

That was more than a year ago. The news then,
as now, was filled with wars, the financial crisis, global warming, people
trafficking. My little finger was strapped up in blue tape and Katie, my
heroine, meets Tom at a New Years Eve party – there alone having chucked her
boyfriend at the most inauspicious time of the year.

Katie feels after the first time she make
loves with Tom that something is changing inside her like litmus paper dipped
in the oils of love. She imagines she has been wearing a mask half her life
(she likes masks) and now, she looks at herself, her past, her faults and
failings, the world around her falling into a state of chaos, and isn't sure if
love is appropriate, or what she secretly wants.

My earlier novels were published by Xcite
and Random House. This time I decided to go Indie. I had a list of about 700
titles before realising that Katie in Love was the only title. I had four
editors look at the early drafts, worked on the cover (something publishers
insist on doing themselves) and feel an enormous joy and a little pride now the
book is out there like a little red bird released from my
soul.

Katie Boyd has nothing in common with Tom
Bridge, the volunteer doctor she meets at a party – except in bed she finds a
passion to match her own. Tom is intense, puzzling, a man who cares about
others and compels Katie to question her own life drifting through the hip
clubs and London party scene.

When Tom returns to his post in a Sri Lanka
orphanage, Katie isn’t sure if their passion was lit by its brevity, or if
love, unexpected and not entirely wanted, has edged its way into her life.
Should she go back to being who she always was? Or follow Tom into the unknown?

Katie in Love is a compelling
erotic-romance that will grip readers as they follow Katie’s journey to an
ending they may have expected – but not in the way they expected it.

Brilliantly written and coolly self-aware,
Chloe Thurlow was described by KM Dylan on Amazon as

Chloe Thurlow's novel Girl Trade became an
Xcite Books best-seller and has been translated into Spanish and Polish. She
moved from West London to East London, where the rents are cheaper and the
saving means broken streets, a fall, a fractured finger and her new novel, Katie
in Love.

Thanks to her ex-boyfriend, Sommer Allen's life is in
shambles. She's headed home to Courtland, Texas for her sister's wedding, but
when a quick stop a gas station ruins her plans, she's left stranded and at the
mercy of a handsome cowboy.

Perry Glidewell is on his way back to Texas after winning
another championship in the arena versus a bull. When he finds Sommer having a
meltdown in the middle of a parking lot, he knows he can't leave her alone.
Since her hometown is near his, it makes sense to hit the road together.

Sommer never imagined falling for a cowboy. His manners and
gallant attitude win her over quickly, but with her future uncertain, she's not
quite willing to give her whole heart to Perry. He'll do whatever it takes to
break the walls around Sommer's heart, because beneath her tough-talking
exterior, he sees she's the type of Texas girl he's always dreamed of.

Perry opened the door. “What the hell are you doing? Are you
trying to steal my truck?”

She glowered. “Of course not. You snore. I thought I'd be
able to sleep out here. I was asleep, until I turned a little and set off the alarm.
I'm so sorry.” She handed him the keys and knocked something off the dash.

A lacy bra landed on his bare feet. His gaze shot straight
to her chest. Sommer's t-shirt was tight around her breasts and her nipples
made perky bumps in the material.

Perry clenched his teeth. Of all the damn things to notice.
He bent down and picked the bra up by the strap. “Think you lost something.”

She snatched the bra out of his hand. “You try sleeping in
one of these.”

“Not really my style, sweetheart.”

“It's not like I have a garment bag to store it in. Anyway,
you snore really bad. It's like the cross between a wood chipper and a rabid
lion. I can't spend the rest of the night listening to you.”

“You could have woke me up instead of alerting the whole
world to where we are.” He shook his head. “You're one strange lady.”

“Am not.” Her lower lip slid out and she folded her arms
under her breasts, pushing them up higher.

About Allison Merritt:

A love of reading inspired Allison Merritt to pursue her
dream of becoming an author who writes historical, paranormal and fantasy
romances, often combining the sub-genres. She lives in a small town in the Ozark Mountains with her husband and
dogs. When she's not writing or reading, she hikes in national parks and conservation areas.

Allison graduated from College of the Ozarks in Point
Lookout, Missouri with a B.A. in mass communications that's gathering dust
after it was determined that she's better at writing fluff than hard news.

She’d buried a hero. She wasn’t looking for another. But her
cowboy in waiting was far from a hero…

Bury enough dreams, and you’re bound to grow up.

Diana Salas Chester is a rancher’s daughter and a hero’s
widow. There isn’t a lot she can’t do, from raising her daughter Gwen to facing
down the loss of dream after dream. And then a birthday celebration goes wrong,
and Diana winds up in Border Patrol Agent Ray Bennett’s bed.

Not many of her acquaintances approve of Ray “Baby” Bennett.
But is he just the cowboy she’s been waiting for? Ray Bennett spent his life
running away from the demands of his cowboy brothers and the ranching life. So
when he wakes up in bed with his Border Patrol partner’s sister, he doesn’t
want the complications. But suddenly the choice isn’t his to make.

Across from him, Di straightened in her chair. He looked her
over appreciatively. The halter dress she wore plunged deeply, the icy blue
contrasting with a smooth, even tan that went enticingly lower than he would
have expected. Compassion headed toward desire. Hell, toward lust. Maybe if the
night went suddenly better…

She tilted her head a little, then shook it. “You…what kind
of car do you drive?” she asked abruptly.

“Yellow Corvette.” He waited for the gleam of appreciation.

“Then you’re the idiot in the yellow car!” She closed her
fingers around her drink glass so hard he thought it might break, and gulped
half the drink before slamming it down again.

“I will never forgive Rachel for this—this nightmare! My
best friend? How could she set me up with some stupid, stuck-up, oversexed jerk
in a yellow car? Damn you, Rachel!”

He gaped for a moment, then slowly closed his mouth. “Just
one thing,” he asked. “Who’s Rachel?”

About Leslie Garcia:

Leslie P. García grew up lost among a crowd of six siblings
and a menagerie that included more than twenty horses and ponies, uncounted
dogs and cats, possums, raccoons—even a lion and monkeys. Then she moved to
Texas, fell in love, was disowned—and embarked on her real adventures, raising
4 children, teaching hundreds, and loving 9 grandkids through forty years of
marriage. The fabric of that colorful life has always been writing. In A Cowboy
Heart, Leslie celebrates two of her passions—cowboys and the ever present
chance at redemption in spite of past mistakes. Leslie loves hearing from
readers and can be found all over cyber space, including these places:

Johnson O’Neill joined The Heartsong Ranch to escape his
addiction. One night at a friend’s wedding, stress causes him to fall off the
wagon and into the arms of the woman of his dreams.

Debra Donahue lost her husband to alcohol then pulled
herself up by her bootstraps becoming a million-dollar selling real estate
agent. One night with a sexy cowboy and a bottle of whiskey, Debra falls hard.

Can an alcoholic cowboy and a brokenhearted woman find love
despite their fears? Or will the bottom of a bottle claim another happily ever
after?

“I don’t drink, but could use a strong one, right now. Not
this sissy stuff.” He lifted the glass to his lips, downed the contents, and
shoved his now-empty champagne flute away before he leaned in toward her. The
smell of alcohol on his breath hinted that he’d already had too much to drink.
“Know anyone around here with some whiskey?” The dark sapphire of his eyes
chilled her. This was a man used to getting what he wanted. “I’d even share.”
His voice deepened and became husky with his offer and she shivered.

“I don’t drink with men I don’t know.” Debra stuck out her
hand. “I’m Debra, and you are?”

The man grabbed another glass of champagne off a passing
waiter’s tray and guzzled the drink in one swallow. “The name’s Johnson
O’Neill. Now about that whiskey.” He reached out and drew her up to standing
then tugged her in close to him. Wrapping his arm around her back, he moved her
body in a slow two-step motion.

Debra gazed into his eyes. “You don’t have to seduce me for
the whiskey.” She stepped out of his embrace and put her hands on her hips. She
frowned.

“That’s not why I drew you into my arms. You were tapping
your foot when I arrived—and I thought you might like a dance. A pretty woman
like you shouldn’t be sitting alone.” He stretched his palm out again in a
plea.

About Melissa Keir:

Melissa Keir has always wanted to be an author when she
wasn’t hoping for a career as a race car driver. Her love of books was
instilled by her mother and grandparents who were avid readers. She’d often
sneak books away from them so that she could fantasize about those strong alpha
males and plucky heroines. In middle school and high school, Melissa used to
write sappy love poems and shared them with her friends and still has those
poems today! In college her writing changed to sarcastic musings on life as
well as poems with a modern twist on fairy tales and won awards for her
writing. You can find many of these musings along with her latest releases on
her website and blog.

As a writer, Melissa likes to keep current on topics of
interest in the world of writing. She’s a member of the Romance Writers of
America, Mid-Michigan RWA Chapter, and EPIC. She is always interested in
improving her writing through classes and seminars.

Melissa doesn’t believe in down time. She’s always keeping
busy. Melissa is a wife and mother, an elementary school teacher, a movie
reviewer, an owner of a publishing company as well as an author. Her home
blends two families and is a lot like the Brady Bunch, without Alice- a large
grocery bill, tons of dirty dishes and a mound of laundry. She loves to write
stories that feature happy endings and is often seen plotting her next story.

Colby may be having the worst day ever. He wakes up at
gunpoint, “hired” by a stranger to do a new job he doesn’t want. Worried the
load he’s hauling is contraband, he walks off the job once he’s out of sight of
his new employer. Running may not be his best plan, but he needs time to find a
way out of this mess.

Delta’s day starts off rough when her pickup stalls on the
side of the road. Lucky for her, a handsome cowboy comes along and works
mechanical magic on the poor old truck. They strike a deal: he’ll help her out
around the farm in exchange for a place to lay low for a few days. He turns out
to be handy in all the right ways. A real keeper…not that she’s interested in
keeping a man right now. She can afford a rebound fling, but nothing more.

Besides, once Colby gets rid of the crime boss breathing
down his neck, he’ll hit the trail. A rodeo circuit cowboy from Oklahoma
wouldn’t want to stick around on a little farm in Colorado. Or would he?

The door across the hall opened and by the time she turned
around, Colby stood there in nothing but a towel. Hubbahubba, a very small
towel, since she kept her nice big ones downstairs and hadn’t remembered to
provide him one.

Um. Dripping, mostly naked, and looking as surprised as she
felt… Wow. Those shoulders looked even better without a shirt. He had the
prettiest eyes. Did guys like their eyes being called pretty? Whatever. Nice
green-gray. And oh, how she’d appreciate a wardrobe malfunction right about
now, just a little slippage of that towel. Although the healthy bulge beneath
might not allow it to slip far.

“Ahem.”

“Er,” she answered ever-so-intelligently. “Sorry.”

“Sorry,” he said at the same time. “Forgot my bag in here.”

Caught leering. Her face must be flame-red. “Thought I had
time to make up the bed for you.”

“I’ll just…” He indicated his bag on the floor by the
window.

“Oh. Sure.” She stepped aside so he could get to it. Lord,
please grant us a wardrobe malfunction...

He picked up his bag without the towel slipping, although
she had to say it had soaked up water in some prime spots and clung just right.

As he passed by her, he paused, and she tore her eyes away.
Reluctantly. God. Her mother had definitely taught her it was rude to stare.
The poor guy probably worried she’d attack him in the night. He was hot enough,
it had probably happened before.

“Ditto,” he said.

“Huh?”

With his free hand, he rubbed his thumb over her chin.
“Whatever you’re thinking, right back atcha.” Looking up into his eyes was like
riding the downhill part of a rollercoaster. Her heart screamed Weeeee!

About Autumn Piper:

Born and raised in itty-bitty Rifle, Colorado, Autumn Piper
studiously avoided trouble…but is now inclined toward it, particularly in her
novels. She thinks the best things in life are funny, and the runners-up,
romantic.

An admitted carb addict, Autumn writes, edits, manages two
teenagers, two cats, a box turtle with a huge personality, one husband and many
supersize houseplants, and does the cooking and cleaning when forced to.

Katie Chester is alone in the world. After losing her
husband and then her parents, she’s left to run Heaven, a thousand-acre ranch
encompassing nearly an entire Montana mountain. She rents out a suite of rooms,
but ends up with a boarder who shakes her to her foundation.

When Pennsylvanian ex-Army doctor Collin Kirkpatrick lost
his wife a year ago, he lost his world. He needs to escape the pain, and where
better than in an isolated town in the West? He answers an ad for resident
doctor in Evansville, Montana, but is surprised to find Heaven and the angel
residing there.

But can they leave their grief and pain in the past to blaze
a new path into the future?

He smirked at her as he sat beside her on the hay bale.
“You’re laughing at me.”

“Not at all. You’re actually a pleasant surprise, Dr.
Kirkpatrick.”

“I hope in a good way.” He winked at her and quirked his
lips up into a lopsided smile, then turned his attention fully on the cow and
calf, and leaned over his long legs with his elbow planted on his knees.

The calf suddenly lurched herself onto her back feet and
Collin grinned from ear to ear. “She’s a beauty.”

Dear God, he more than surprised her, he overwhelmed her,
and yes, it was in a good way. A very good way.

Katie let out a breath and violently shivered. He picked up
the discarded blanket and pulled it over her legs. “You’re going to catch your
death. Were you out in this cold all day?”

She nodded and swallowed. No way could she tell him that the
sensation had nothing to do with the cold, and everything to do with him.

With a deep breath to steady her racing heart, she watched
as the calf latched onto one of her mother’s teats and started sucking with
loud, hungry pulls.

“We can go inside in a few moments.” Sweet mercy, was that
low, husky voice hers?

Collin only nodded as they watched the miracle of life
before him.

About Sara Walter Ellwood:

Although Sara Walter Ellwood has long ago left the farm for
the glamour of the big town, she draws on her experiences growing up on a small
hobby farm in West Central Pennsylvania to write her contemporary westerns.
She’s been married to her college sweetheart for over 20 years, and they have
two teenagers and one very spoiled rescue cat named Penny. She longs to visit
the places she writes about and jokes she’s a cowgirl at heart stuck in
Pennsylvania suburbia. Sara Walter Ellwood is a multi-published author and
publishes paranormal romantic suspense under the pen name Cera duBois.

She left town to chase her dreams... He stayed and ignored
his... Can they find their dreams together?

All Madeline Harper ever wanted was to escape the tight
fences of Black Mountain, Colorado. Nothing would stop her from pursuing her
goals--not a devoted boyfriend or infant son. Leaving everything behind, she
landed her dream job as a Western Girl jeans model. Her sister’s wedding is the
only thing that can entice her home. What she learns upon her return shakes her
to the core…and changes everything.

For the last five years Shan Ellis’ life has consisted of
taking care of his son and being a cowhand on his parents’ ranch. He scarified
everything to be a single dad. College. A career. Girls. Now, the one woman he
can’t forget is back in town. Can he take a chance, and risk his heart, or
steer clear and never know what might have been?

This is how Shan had always pictured his life.

Doing what he loved with his wife and children.

Like him, Mason lived to be with the horses and cows. Too
bad his mother hated the cowboy lifestyle with a passion. Shan couldn’t forget
that for a second. Madeline Harper had ripped out his guts once before—he’d be
damned if he’d let her do it again. Even if she wore a mile-wide smile and
looked as at home on the back of a horse, herding cows as well as any cowgirl
she wasn’t happy here. He couldn’t make her love the life, their son or him.

His good mood faded.

Last night, Callie Donovan had all but mounted him on the
dance floor. He liked her well enough, but turned down her advances because he
couldn’t get his mind off the dark-haired beauty from his past. In the five
years since Maddy left town he’d held onto to the hope she’d return.

He was a fool.

Nothing had changed. He wanted a family; she craved fame and
fortune.

About D’Ann Lindun:

Falling in love with romance novels the summer before sixth
grade, D’Ann Lindun never thought about writing one until many years later when
she took a how-to class at her local college. She was hooked! She began writing
and never looked back. Romance appeals to her because there's just something so
satisfying about writing a book guaranteed to have a happy ending. D’Ann’s particular
favorites usually feature cowboys and the women who love them. This is probably
because she draws inspiration from the area where she lives, Western Colorado,
her husband of twenty-nine years and their daughter. Composites of their small
farm, herd of horses, five Australian shepherds, a Queensland heeler, two ducks
and cats of every shape and color often show up in her stories!